


Pulling the Trigger

by sniperct



Series: Overwatch [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Lena fantasizes about and what actually happens are often two different, yet similar, things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling the Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I wrote and never put anywhere last year, and after the Alive trailer upended my view on their interactions I had to go back and edit it.

"Well you've got me now, dontcha love? Just pull that sweet little trigger an' put me out o'yer misery. Even I'm not that fast. But is that really whatcha wanna do?" Tracer slowly lifts her hand, and nudges Widowmaker's finger off of the trigger. "Wouldncha rather put that finger on a different sorta trigger?" This is how it always goes. At least, if Tracer has any say in the matter.

Close, so close. She finally _had_ her. Widowmaker doesn’t often have emotions (never, if you ask her), but Tracer has a way of getting under her skin. She is like an itch just out of reach. Widowmaker can almost feel something like pleasure as she caresses the trigger. 

And then she can’t get the image out of her mind. Tracer under her, her fingers caressing at skin instead of metal, at something warm, not cold. Giving out a shuddery exhale, she jerks away, back meeting the wall behind her and Tracer is in her space faster than she can blink. Knee between her legs, hands digging into her shoulders and lips at the bare skin of her throat.

Something inside her snaps, and she shoves Tracer away, then catches her by the front of her collar. She twists them around and now it’s Tracer underneath her, eyes full of fire and challenge and something hot burns in the Widowmaker’s belly. “Is this what you mean?” 

She feels dismay at the breathiness of her voice, at how raspy and desperate she sounds, but it’s been months (no, years) since she felt _any_ thing. She finds the other woman’s trigger, and she presses it.

That is how Tracer _thinks_ it would go, how she fantasizes about it, idle thoughts she shouldn’t have. But it’s never how it _actually_ goes. Which is why she’s dismayed to find herself face first against the wall. Widowmaker’s hand was down her tights and alternating between nibbling on her earlobe and whispering _incredibly_ lewd things in French.

Dismayed is probably the wrong word for it. If Lena doesn’t want to be there, she can escape easily enough. But Widowmaker is so _good_ at getting under her skin. The low rumbly way she laughs, the way she so subtly caresses Tracer when the younger woman least expects it. Any fantasy she has about getting the drop on Widowmaker and making her weak in the knees tends to pop when faced with reality.

Widowmaker knows how to stroke a trigger. She’s an expert at it. Her lips curl as she finds Lena’s, and _presses_ it.


End file.
